


Words I Wrote From A Foreign Land

by ParadiseParrot



Series: Sanctuary [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Dad Thundercracker, Attempted Sexual Assault, Awkward Tension, I promise that this gets heartwarming but heed the warning, Other, Seeker Trines, Seekers, Stopped Assault
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-05 04:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11570022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParadiseParrot/pseuds/ParadiseParrot
Summary: Thundercracker's settled on Earth, without Cybertronians--until one with old connections is thrown into his life. To his great surprise, he finds she's thrilled to meet him.He's pretty happy about it, too.(Please read opening notes)





	Words I Wrote From A Foreign Land

**Author's Note:**

> Important content warning:
> 
> A character who's of age, but young, is almost assaulted early in this fic. Emphasis on almost, and the story doesn't go into possible repercussions at this time. She's unharmed and will be as well as can be expected. I haven't put the Rape/Noncon archive warning on it because it doesn't actually occur, but if this event is something that could upset you or is a trigger, I want you to be prepared! I don't want to deal with this flippantly and want everyone to be safe.
> 
> Less important notes: This is in the Sanctuary series, but you're not required to have read the earlier ones. It's set later on and focuses on other characters (though All Things Old Are New Again is the most relevant, if you want to go back first). Some of you might know Updraft from Fledgling, and this would be her IDW debut!
> 
> Title from Hold Your Horse's song, 70 Million

Thundercracker never went to Cybertron. Starscream didn’t deign to come to Earth, and Skywarp had progressed to actively avoiding him whenever they were in the same vicinity, sporting a new personal frequency, new teleport generator, and a new life without a trine. Without a conjunx endura.

It hurt, but the ache had long become something manageable. What hurt more these days was when one of his rescues got old, their fur whiter and their little steps unsteadier than before. Never as much as Buster had hurt (and no boxer puppy, no matter how friendly or how needy, could replace her or fill the void she’d left), and each little hole they carved in his spark could be smoothed by the next needy dog, but it was exhausting, watching organics go through their life cycle. The humans lasted longer, but they’d reproduce and age and die in turn, no matter what medical advances they made. And they seemed to have made plenty, ever since they worked out quantum engines.

Marissa had not reached her average lifespan, and he still hadn’t quite forgiven her.

Starscream didn’t deign to come to Earth, except when he did. Which was how Thundercracker found himself in the gallery with the other Cybertronian nobodies, watching Cybertron's Airlord and Emperor wax long about the two planet's long partnership.

Hah. How things could change in just a few centuries.

Logan wagged his tail inside Thundercracker’s cockpit, thump-thump-thump on the seat. Fiona had her paws on the glass, tongue out as she watched other Cybertronians shift and whisper. One of them had knocked the water bowl over, something he hardly noticed any more.

“Good pups,” he murmured. “Glad you’re here to keep me company.”

The rest were back home, in good hands with that young woman who made him think of Marissa. These younger humans, they were used to mechs now. And Thundercracker was considered one of the most harmless among them, a fixture who was happy to live quietly and take in needy dogs.

Well, happy enough. It would be nice if more than his memoir got attention, when he worked so hard on the fiction.

Starscream finished, and people in the lower gallery clapped. The upper levels mostly murmured as the next speaker was introduced, ignoring Thundercracker completely. He was the odd one out, not often associating with his own kind these days—and always with an organic pet or two in tow.

It made it easy to mech-watch, at least. There was Windblade, the Camien, and a number of Autobots. Ironhide, Wheeljack, Rattrap. Soundwave, flanked by his two sparklets, upgraded by now and part of the adult world. Sonata held his frame quite gracefully, but Comet hadn’t quite left that gangly stage of being a newbuilt. A number of the other colony delegates were there too, looking varying degrees of bored.

Logan curled up on the seat, his paws poking over the edge. He was one of his old dogs, his front and muzzle mostly white. Thundercracker never had worked out what breeds he was. Fiona, a black pit breed, was wiggly, enthusiastic about everything and everyone. Most importantly, they were gentle, not like some of the dangerous, frightened animals he was so often brought. A snapping dog would not be conducive to continued peace.

Starscream was sitting back down, speaking to a femme he at first didn’t recognize. She had her wings flared out awkwardly, her foot tapping against the leg of her seat. Thundercracker watched his old trine leader reach out, and gently adjust how she held her wings. The bot rolled her optics,not unnerved by being this close to the Cybertronian leader.

Thundercracker realized who this was. Their own little princess, he mused bitterly, on her first public outing as a young adult. The last time he’d heard much about little Updraft it had been when Marissa was still alive, when Starscream had waged that nasty custody battle with the Velocitronian sire. Thundercracker recalled being grateful he'd been far away from that mess.

Updraft was no longer young enough to be fought over—not by her parents, anyway. Of course Starscream had spared no expense on the upgrade, and had she been brought up in Vos she would have turned most every head. Small, all curves, with deep red plating and gold accents. Red optics, and a gray face and hands a little darker than the standard.

She seemed unaware that she was turning heads _now,_ but she was a public figure's daughter, used to attention. She _was_ striking, but she was a newbuilt. And surely a newbuilt would be bored out of her mind here, listening to all this political nonsense.

Eventually, the opening conference ended. Relieved, Thundercracker stood carefully, mindful of his charges and wondering why he still came to these things anyway. No one Cybertronian spoke to him beyond a polite few minutes, if that, and it wasn’t as if many working here would think highly of his book.

He decided he’d take a little walk. Maybe he’d attend the presentation about the new flight corps later, for curiosity's sake, but Marissa wasn’t here to make sure he was heard. Even if she was, Starscream might catch his optic, and sneer at him. Skywarp was back on Cybertron—he might end up with a position in the corps. And he was the last person Thundercracker wanted to be near.

He could let the dogs down at the organic garden when they got there, and they’d enjoy stretching their legs. Logan could sprawl out in the shade, and Fiona would lick everyone that came near in a very Buster-like way.

This was one of the less travelled walkways, if he recalled correctly. So the last thing he expected to see was Starscream’s sparklet up ahead, wings twitching and her gait that ungainly newbuilt lope.

Well, as soon as her carrier noticed she was gone, he’d flip his lid and demand a search party, for sure. And Thundercracker did not plan to be the one found walking behind her when they did, so he turned right at his next opportunity. A more roundabout way to the garden, but probably worth it in the end.

At first the scuffle and yelp behind did little to slow his steps. Logan couldn’t spend all that long in the cockpit, at his age, and Fiona might get too excited and bounce around, hit something sensitive—

There was a sharp, frightened scream.

Thundercracker paused, and sighed. He activated the seatbelts, so he could start moving fast in the direction he’d come and the dogs would only end up a little baffled.

 _He_ had definitely gone soft, but times had changed. Plenty of mechs would run to help someone in trouble, and better to find out it was nothing than let it happen behind him. He’d done enough walking away from the bad.

He didn’t recognize the big mech that had Updraft pinned, but he knew fear when he saw it, and exactly what it meant when someone pawed at chestplates and hips, pushing them fast against a wall.

He’d seen it time and again on bases and ships, and high command couldn’t punish every incident.

Thundercracker’s engines growled low and loud. The dogs went still, and he made sure the sounds of his weapons systems onlining could be heard. Before the mech could open his mouth, Thundercracker had a hand on his wrist, twisting hard.

“You’re done here,” he growled. His sonic boom generator had long been dormant (and might startle his dogs to death) but he could still make it rumble, so this idiot mech could feel it down to his struts. Updraft stared at him, and the second the mech loosened his hold she had scrambled back, optics nearly whited out.

The mech knew as soon as something stopped being worth it (as if it ever had been). The moment Thundercracker flicked his wings and leaned forward, he had transformed, his dumpy car mode skidding on the walkway as he left. Probably a colonist, and certainly unfamiliar with Earth modes. It would make him easy to find later.

 

Thundercracker expected Updraft to have made her escape too. But when he turned around she was in exactly the same place, hand on the wall and staring at him.

Her optics were wide, and full of coolant.

Primus save him from Starscream.

“Alright,” he murmured. He reached out, hoping the way he looked her over didn’t seem like he was taking her too. “Alright. Updraft, isn’t it? Did he hurt you?”

Nothing seemed out of place on her. Not even scuffed, to his relief. Starscream’s thrusters would fly off less violently if it was clear his offspring hadn’t been physically harmed. Optics still wide, Updraft shook her head.

“No,” she said. Her voice only wavered a little. “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” Thundercracker said. His hand hovered, not quite touching her. “Then you can stand. Do you know that mech?”

“Not at all.” Updraft was staring at him, but he couldn’t place her gaze as confusion or recognition or both. “I think he followed me. I was just going to go see the organic gardens.”

“Well, I doubt he’ll be back,” Thundercracker said. He straightened up, flicking his wings. “I was going that way myself, so the dogs could stretch their legs. But I understand if you’d prefer to avoid strange mechs.”

Updraft’s head was tilted now. “I do know you, though,” she said. “You’re Thundercracker.”

He smiled. “Did the Earth dogs give it away? Or just a big loner Seeker?”

“I read your book,” she said, the last answer he had expected. Her optics had gone brighter, her wings perked up. “I loved it. And I learned a ton about how the trines and flight corps worked.”

Well, that wasn’t what he heard every day. Marissa had told him he was better suited for non-fiction, when she’d read his early draft (and red penciled it, viciously). She hadn’t gotten to read the final, but he knew that among humans it had gotten some traction.

He motioned for her to follow him, and without hesitation she did. “I'm surprised your carrier let you read it. I’m not well-liked by Cybertronians any more.”

Updraft’s optics danced with mischief. “Oh, he doesn’t know. I asked my sire if I could have it, and I just read it on Velocitron. If Carrier knew I'd read it, he'd flip his lid.”

“I see,” he said, trying not to look too pleased. “I did try to paint him in an honest light. We worked together for a long time.”

“Oh, I know,” she said—then paused at the way Thundercracker startled.

It wasn’t anything she was at fault for. He quickly reset his audials so he could answer her the way he ought to. It got harder and harder each year to call up his old language, after all, and hadn’t planned to hear it spoken to him.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I just didn’t expect to have Vosian spoken my way today.”

Updraft brightened immediately. “Carrier only speaks to me in it,” she said. “Unless we’re out, of course, but he already lost his accent. He doesn’t want to lose the words. I speak Velocitronian with my sire's family, too, and Uncle Jack taught me a little Helexite.”

She was relaxing, which was good. Of course, he wasn’t used to talking to anyone but dogs, so a young mech chattering on in his native language was a little bit to take in. Thundercracker tried not to look to blindsided.

“And Uncle Jack would be…Wheeljack, right?” he said. Updraft nodded, and Thundercracker smiled. “He’s not bad, for an Autobot. And I’m glad you liked the book.”

“You know, all the older mechs from the war, they’ve seen so much, but not enough of them write it down,” she said. “I’m happy a Seeker did, so I could understand what it was like.”

She’d never really understand, but Thundercracker wasn’t about to reprimand her. No one had been this genuinely interested in him in ages, and he was realizing as of that moment that he had missed being talked to.

Her enthusiasm about his work sure didn’t hurt.

“Vos will never be what it used to,” Thundercracker said, ignoring the pang in his spark. “Neither will the flight corps. Or any of _us,_ honestly. There’s before, and the war, and now. And we don’t change fast.”

“No,” she said. “The humans don’t live all that long, right? They barely last a vorn. But they’re always coming up with things. I think that’s neat.”

“I agree,” Thundercracker said. “It’s why I choose to live here. If you’d known the person I was, you wouldn’t imagine he and I are the same mech.”

“Well,” Updraft said. “Maybe you’re not. Is this the garden?”

They had hit on the expanse of Earth plants before Thundercracker could think about that. He crouched low, gently opening his cockpit so he could lower the dogs to the ground. Logan stepped gingerly out of his hand, but Fiona bounced, sniffing and wagging her tail as she got to walk freely.

“Watch your step,” he said to Updraft. “You’re charming me, but if you kill one of my dogs that will change.”

She stepped well back from the grass, and Thundercracker decided firmly that he liked her. Plenty of mechs didn’t take their danger to his animals seriously, and it was a surefire way to make Thundercracker hate them.

“My carrier said you raise insects,” Updraft said skeptically. “But I think insects have exoskeletons? These are…soft.”

“They’re in the mammal taxonomy,” Thundercracker said. “Warm-blooded, raise live young. Like humans, but very much not. This planet has thousands of animals.”

“Wow,” Updraft said. She set her hands on her hips, watching Logan ease himself into a shady spot under a bush. “Velocitron still has petrorabbits, but they’re mostly for hunting games. I don’t think Starscream thinks all that highly of animals—organic or not.”

“He wouldn’t,” Thundercracker said. He nodded his head in Updraft’s direction. “But you read my book. And at this point, you know him better than me.”

Updraft shrugged. “I don’t think he’s the same mech, any more than you are. And sometimes I think I don’t know him at all, because he changes who he is. He’s more…temperamental, at home.”

He hoped she hadn’t borne the brunt of too much of that famous temper. He was entirely skeptical of Starscream’s ability to raise a sparklet by himself, but it seemed that Updraft spent time with her sire, too. And if she was going around calling Autobots _uncle,_ than he probably got more help than he admitted.

“There’s no one quite like Starscream,” Thundercracker said after a moment. “And maybe I shouldn’t say that to his daughter, but he’s never been easy to get along with. Don’t let him make you think it’s your fault he’s like that.”

Her optics sparkled more brightly. “Oh, I don’t,” she said. “I spend every other weekend with my sire, and his conjux, and their sparklets. And Uncle Jack and Aunt Windblade, Aunt Moonracer, Uncle Ironhide, Uncle Rattrap…”

“A lot of aunts and uncles,” Thundercracker said, quirking a brow. “Seems you’re well taken care of.”

Updraft smiled. “Everyone says they just want me to succeed,” she said. “We’ll see.”

“Your carrier has no shortage of…strong qualities,” Thundercracker said. That was, at least, a true statement. “I can’t say I didn't try to keep them all in check, though.”

“He said you were, to quote an Earth phrase, ‘a stick in the mud.’” Updraft bent down for a moment, apparently to where Fiona had flopped, happily panting. “And if you weren’t that, you were, uh, crazy by now. But you’re obviously not those things.”

It was clear that Starscream’s opinion of him was not high, but that didn’t surprise him. What did was this child of his and her comparatively good nature—and how quickly she seemed to have taken to him. Was it a Seeker thing? Maybe she was too quick to make friends, and it would put her in danger. But he couldn’t imagine an offspring of Starscream’s not being at least a _little_ bit savvy.

Thundercracker thought for a moment on what he would say. She might also be in shock from having such a close call, and was coping by chattering with someone who felt familiar. He settled on something that wouldn’t bubble all that to the surface.

“It’s nice to speak Vosian again,” he said. “The human languages are fine, but it feels like home.”

“Carrier said that once too,” Updraft said. She stood up slowly, though the dogs were safely out of stepping distance. “Not to me, obviously. But he talks to himself a lot.”

Thundercracker pursed his lips. He’d heard rumours about that whole mess, and been surprised, because Starscream had never hallucinated when they were three. It wasn’t very becoming of the Cybertronian leader to not be in full control of his functions...

…but maybe Thundercracker himself was no longer a Cybertronian.

“I think these two have had a good stretch,” he said, then whistled. The dogs knew the drill by then, and stood somewhat at attention, tails wagging and tongues panting as Thundercracker scooped them up and set them in his cockpit. “We ought to get you back to the other side of this compound.”

Updraft’s wings flicked up. Like every Seeker before her, she turned her face up to the sky. “Can we fly?”

Thundercracker snorted. “Well, we’d barely take off! It’s just a short walk.”

For the first time since their meeting, Updraft pouted. When she did that, pulling in her brows and slouching her shoulders, she looked incredibly like her carrier.

“If you say so,” she said. “But I hardly ever get to fly with other Seekers. My brother is huge, so he's slow, and Aunt Windblade is _beautiful_ but she takes her cityspeaking and work stuff more seriously. We can’t just do a couple laps?”

The dogs didn’t particularly mind flying (to everyone's surprise, but especially Thundercracker’s), and he did his drills faithfully at home…but it had been some time since he’d had someone else on his wing.

And this someone had bright imploring optics, and he already knew how pleased she’d be if he agreed. Young fliers could be clumsy, not the easiest to fly with—

—So why was he already so inclined to want to make her happy? Maybe he missed his trine more than he’d guessed.

Thundercracker sighed. “Two wide laps,” he said. “Then I have to take you back.”

“Oh, you’re the _best,_ ” she said, smiling wide like he was one of her dear uncles. “…But not three?”

“My final offer.”

She twitched her wings, but she was smiling. “Fine,” she said. “But I’m gonna warn you, I'm fast.”

He smirked. “And I’m a 4-million-year dogfight veteran. It's just to stretch our wings.”

He transformed and took off. Logan barked a brief alarm but soon stilled, the seatbelts by now familiar to his dogs. He wouldn’t maneuver wildly in the air today, not with them, but he could surely keep up with a speedy little newbuilt.

Or not.

Apparently she hadn’t been kidding about her top speed. Her size meant that her sleek jet mode cut perfectly through the air, but power of propulsion was in the spark. She was too young to have been modded, so Thundercracker had to be impressed.

Of course, he lacked her personal frequency, and couldn’t tell her to slow down. Or stop spinning, wobbly ridiculous motions that they were. She was clearly having the time of her life, and it was with some relief that he noted that being sired by a grounder had had no effect on a love of the sky.

She managed two and a half laps, passing Thundercracker once before he banked, firmly, towards the diplomat's compound. In all likelihood, Starscream would be there by now, and if not, he’d find her quickly. Updraft was a little reluctant in following, but did so with some grace, following him down at his left wing. It was nice, to know someone else was in his slipstream again.

He transformed and landed neatly on both feet. He looked up for Updraft—and his spark flared out, as she barely managed to transform before hitting the ground. She wobbled, and needed on hand as well as a crouch to steady herself. Despite it, she was grinning wide, wings held high in obvious pleasure.

“I’m working on that,” she said. She stood, and without thinking Thundercracker reached out to steady her arm. “My carrier says it's graceful to land on three points.”

“To _land,”_ Thundercracker said, and he could those exact words in that familiar old voice. “Not bounce off the ground. Transform a full klik earlier, and you'll find it much easier.”

“That's _slow,_ though,” she said. “There's a thrill to this.”

“You can't have thrills if you crash,” he said, smiling wryly. “It's better to be a bit more careful when you're learning. I used to teach new fliers, you know. Early in the war.”

“I know,” she said, straightening up. “It was in your book, remember? You never said why you stopped.”

Thundercracker shrugged. His gaze was caught by two familiar figures, their backs turned to him and both gesturing wildly. The red roller (Knock Out, right?) looked ready to throw a punch, Starscream had his arms thrown out, and one Autobot stood with his arms folded, observing with a measure of calm.

“War dragged on, we ran out of new recruits. I was Starscream's full-time right wing. And there,” he added, pointing, “are your parents.”

Updraft shifted uncomfortably, her wings dropping down a fraction. “Right. Full disclosure, I wasn't supposed to be walking over there by myself.”

Of course she hadn't, which was why she had an escort home now. Newbuilt Starscream had done the same thing, with Skywarp and Thundercracker in tow and all three of them bursting with the thrill of being away from the cohort.

To her credit, she was brave about it. She pulled her wings up by force of will and strolled forward, knowing her parents would hear her steps and turn around.

“ _Updraft!”_

Millions of years and Starscream's shriek was unchanged. Knock Out got there first, hands immediately on her shoulders and his wheels keeping Starscream out of the immediate way.

“Updraft, sweet spot, you _cannot_ run off like that, not on strange planets,” Knock Out said. _“Especially_ not dirty organic ones. I was worried sick!”

“You said they made some good music,” Updraft said. Instantly her sire flushed—behind them, Wheeljack's fins flickered in amusement. “I wasn't even gone an hour, Dad.”

She was relaxed with her sire, but used formal terms for Starscream. Thundercracker couldn't be surprised.

“That has _nothing_ to do with you sneaking off,” Knock Out said. He couldn't finish, as Starscream found the right moment to shove him away and start examining Updraft himself.

“Not everyone is as mindful of you as in Metroplex,” Starscream said, his optics blazing. “There's no Titan here to keep you safe.”

He looked up, and finally saw Thundercracker. His spark stuttered in spite of himself, for a moment, but he hoped the cool gaze of his old life would be enough to keep Starscream at bay. He stepped back, just enough for Knock Out to swoop in again and eye Updraft's plating more critically.

“This is scuffed,” he said, to Thundercracker's surprise. He hadn't seen any damage to Updraft's paint, but Knock Out was staring at her spark seam—then he looked up, at Thundercracker himself, and his spark froze briefly.

He wasn't the one at fault, and the security cameras would back him up...but Thundercracker had to admit, he didn't want to be on the bad side of that mech over this.

“It's fine,” Updraft said, though she stiffened. “I got in some trouble on my walk, but Thundercracker helped me out. It's really fine.”

Now all optics were on him, and Thundercracker remembered his military history. How to straighten up and look taller, ready for orders.

“I didn't want her running into more trouble, so I brought her back,” he said. “Long time no see, trine leader.”

Starscream's optics went a little rounder, in warning, but Knock Out beat him to it. Thundercracker had to be impressed that someone could out-talk his old boss.

“This base isn't big enough to need flying over it,” Knock Out said, optics all suspicion. Starscream kept staring at Thundercracker, mouth curled in the subtlest of snarls.

“I asked,” Updraft said. She was frowning now, looking a little trapped between all these figures apparently looking for her. “I'm lucky he was there.”

“I suppose you were, based on the location of those scuffs,” Knock Out said, more softly. Thundercracker could hardly blame him for being distressed, if he thought too hard about what would have happened had he not been there. Or kept walking. She probably had self-defense training, but she was inexperienced and had been caught unawares...

Well, it hadn't come out like that, so he ought not to think about it.

“Updraft would have kicked him in the head by now if he was bad news,” the Autobot said. Wheeljack, he thought. The fins on his head were flashing a little too bright, but he had stepped bravely closer to Starscream. “Obviously Ironhide will go over the security footage.”

Then he gave Starscream the kind of pointed look that had once only come from his trine (and Jetfire, briefly). Thundercracker was jarred—he had to wonder what was going on if Wheeljack felt comfortable enough to _scold_ him.

“Obviously,” Starscream said after a moment. “Go inside then, Updraft. I have business to attend to.”

To Thundercracker's relief, Updraft stiffened. “So you can lock me up the next two months? Also, you haven't thanked him, even a little.”

Starscream rolled his optics. “ _Thank you,_ Thundercracker,” he said, drawing it out in that infuriating way of his. It was nice to see some things never changed. “Not to _lock you up,_ just to have you checked over until I can find an appropriate escort.”

Updraft stepped away from her parents then, past Knock Out and right back to Thundercracker. He had to admit that his spark warmed a little, as she smiled up at him. Then she motioned her head towards the others.

“Thundercracker is here at least a little longer,” she said. “The weather is really clear here, good for flying. Since you're all so busy—and don't think I can be trusted alone—how about I fly with him?”

They all paused. They stared at Thundercracker, then his dogs, and Wheeljack huffed. It wasn't a _rude_ huff, exactly, but he still felt out of place.

“You barely know the mech,” Knock Out protested. He was a good looking mech too, all speed and sharp edges. Thundercracker was starting to see where Updraft had picked up her traits. “Breakdown's spoken to you about this—don't put things upon people without asking _them_ first.”

“ _Breakdown,_ ” Starscream mumbled under his breath. He shot Thundercracker a look, and if they'd still had each other's personal comms there surely would have been choice messages sent his way.

(He was pretty sure Breakdown must be Knock Out's conjux, and imagined how Starscream would pop an energon line just thinking about another's conjux helping raise his offspring. It was a rather wonderful thought.)

Updraft could tell she was about to get a no, and her wings flicked down. It seemed she would change tactics.

“You're always glitching about how I need proper Seekers to fly with,” she said. She gestured to Thundercracker. “Proper Seeker. One you _know_ is good at flying! You're all so busy this month, and I'm _not_ spending another day with boring old Badgeless.” She glanced quickly at Thundercracker. He hoped she noticed the minute flicker of his optics. “If he's okay with it, I mean.”

“I've enjoyed her company,” Thundercracker said. “She's got a great top speed, and real potential as a skilled airmech. It would be a shame to waste it in Earth's best flying season.”

Starscream folded his arms. “You're not _too busy_ with your little furry insects?”

“Nope,” Thundercracker said, too experienced to rise to the bait. “And,” he added in Vosian, “It's been such a long time since I last got to speak our language. Her fluency is excellent.”

Updraft glowed, and he was pleased to have been the one to cause it. Starscream was scowling, optics blazing, but Thundercracker was getting back into the habit of being near this. Especially now, as an important leader under scrutiny, there would be very little bite.

“Of course it is,” Starscream said—in Standard. “She's a fine Seeker, and _my_ daughter. Knock Out? Do you see any harm in her spending some time flying with an Earth bound, organic insect raising deserter?”

“Starscream,” Wheeljack said. To Thundercracker's great shock, he reached out and _put his hand on Starscream's elbow._ The same gesture he and Skywarp had done to each other probably millions of times, to comfort each other or soothe when someone couldn't see.

And Starscream actually paused, gave him a long look, and sighed. Unbelievable.

“Well, Knock Out?”

The other mech was smiling slightly. It had to do, Thundercracker guessed, with undermining something Starscream didn't like, but that their offspring wanted.

“Once the security footage is cleared, I see no harm in it,” he said. “You worked with Thundercracker for some time, did you not? And of course we'd check in regularly. I know you would make time to do so.”

It was a barb, and Thundercracker bit his lip so as not to laugh. Starscream's optics had gone very bright, but his telltale wings were pointing down.

“Fine,” he said. “If _Thundercracker_ is willing, she can spend some mornings during the week with him. But I expect _actual teaching_ to be occurring, not just nonsense maneuvers. I know he's capable of it.”

“Of course,” Thundercracker said. “I miss teaching, too.”

“Go inside, Updraft,” Starscream said. “I'll be along in a minute.”

“ _Thank you,_ Carrier,” Updraft said, and managed to turn and wave at Thundercracker, even as Knock Out put an arm around her shoulders and led her away. Wheeljack followed, flashing them an amused glance as they went.

And he was alone with Starscream. Well, he and the dogs, but they seemed to have dozed off.

“What are you playing at?” his old trine leader asked, in Vosian. His wings had flicked back up, and surely he thought he looked commanding, but Thundercracker knew an unsettled Seeker when he saw one. Especially this Seeker.

“Nothing,” Thundercracker said. “I happened to enjoy her company. You've brought up a charming child.”

“So they say,” Starscream huffed, but his optics told him he was pleased. Interesting. “She's too friendly for her station. Hasn't yet learned she's above the rest of you.”

That was rich, coming from a constructed cold, government ordered, virulent anti-Functionist. He decided not to bring it up.

“Cold indifference doesn't work for everyone,” Thundercracker said. “I don't recall it working for you.”

Starscream, to his credit, didn't rise to the bait—though his wings flicked in obvious anger. He watched him vent in, then out.

“What exactly did you _rescue_ her from?” he asked after a moment. “Did she trip over your dog?”

(So he did know what they were called. Of course he was all scorn.) Thundercracker felt distress curl in his spark, thinking of just an hour earlier.

“Some worthless waste of spark snuck up and tried to assault her,” he said, without preamble. “He had a Cybertronian alt, and this base is an island, so I imagine he's still about.”

He sent along an image capture of the mech stepping back from Updraft as he did, and found with surprise that Starscream's new frequency accepted it—and patched into his. His old trine leader had gone awfully stiff. His lip curled in disgust, and his wings had begun twitching in anger.

“I'll see to him, then,” he growled, and he could feel the rumble of Starscream's engines from where he stood. “Pit garbage, thinking to damage her honour in such a way, I could just—”

He bit his lip, and for a moment he and Thundercracker stewed in the same anger. It was the first time in a few centuries they'd shared anything, and it was a shame it was so bitter. Finally, Starscream sighed.

“She was appropriately upgraded, of course,” he said. “Obviously mechs from...our beginnings don't think much about it. But all she knows is Metroplex, and that colony tower her sire lives in on his planet. No street smarts to speak in.”

Thundercracker's lip twitched. “You always did want to be an Airlord. Now you've got the planet, and a princess, too.”

“Oh, shut up,” Starscream snapped. “You could have been something too, if only you stayed. I suppose she _would_ be an interesting distraction, given the company you keep.”

“I'm quite happy with the company I keep,” Thundercracker said calmly. “I hope you are too—really. I'm looking forward to getting to know your daughter.”

Starscream tipped up his chin. “Of course you are. Anyone would be. And at least you can teach her _something_ other than vanity _,_ unlike her sire.”

The implication that wouldn't be first on the How To Be Starscream List was entertaining, but he let it slide. He would have to search through some public appearances—if she made any at all. Maybe she was too friendly for public life at the moment. But if she was so early into her upgrade, she had plenty of time to learn.

“I'll be back in the morning, then, 0700 hours,” Thundercracker said. “Make sure she gets my personal frequency.”

And he was off, transforming and in flight, before Starscream could do anything but start pinging him with datapackets.

Hard to believe there would be something worth dealing with _Starscream_ again over, but there was. He _had_ missed teaching.

Good company went a long way.

 


End file.
